


Desert Blues

by darkstark



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Lovers on the Run, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5216279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkstark/pseuds/darkstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She spends the night counting his heartbeats, enjoying and hating the feeling of his chest pressed against her back, and wondering what would happen if she just turned around and let her lips brush against the scars on his lips." </p><p>Capable and Nux make their way through the desert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desert Blues

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched Mad Max: Fury Road for the first time just a few days ago, and now I'm kicking myself for not going to watch it when it was out in the cinemas. I didn't expect to like it as much as I did (who am I kidding, I loved it), and the whole Nuxable thing got me completely by surprise and now I can't get them out of my head. So here's what I've made of them. I'm a little late to the party, so to speak, but I hope you enjoy it!

She wakes up from her slumber with a start, and for a few moments it is hard to understand where she is and what’s happening, the darkness and shouts and shootings still playing behind her eyes despite the blinding light. But slowly the warm air, the relentless sun and the dust of the desert anchor her again to the seat of the ’67 Mustang. She takes a deep breath and kicks off the boots she’s wearing, letting her bare feet rest on the glove compartment as her eyes close again, now enjoying the sun and the heat.

The boy next to her says nothing, his eyes focused on the road. They mostly exist in silence the two of them, the sounds of the car and the static on the regional radio stations the only substitutes for conversation. It’s been like this since they had to separate from her sisters and Furiosa when Joe and his gang were getting too close. 

Capable doesn’t mind the silence much. She doesn’t know the boy well, doesn’t know what to say to him other than the absolutely necessary things that they need to decide together. She supposes she can trust him, even though he is one of Joe’s boys, because he is here after all, running away from him, taking _her_ away from him.

Sometimes she wonders if he really wants to be here, or if he wishes he hadn’t messed up when he tried to recapture her and her sisters for Joe – if he is only running away with her because he is only afraid for his own life now. But -she reasons as she steals a glance at his shaved head and lean arms, his clear blue eyes and the strange scar on his nose- if he was only running for his life, he wouldn’t have let her come with him.

She wonders where her sisters and Furiosa might be right now, if that man Max is still with them. She wonders if they are safe, still free, still out of Joe’s clutches. She wonders how on earth she will find them again, since they have no way to contact each other. She turns on the volume of the radio, trying to drown her thoughts in the music and the static. There is no way for her to know anything right now, there’s nothing she can do, so it’s better to try not to think.

“That’s a good song” the boy says, his voice gravelly from the lack of use.

“Oh. Yes” she says, finally paying attention to the music that only served to her as white noise. It really isn’t bad, and a part of her feels relieved that he likes it. She wouldn’t let him play his music, because its roughness and force made her jittery, reminding her of the music they always played at Joe’s, and oddly enough he had complied without complaint.

//

She starts to grow fond of him over the days, as they journey through the desert. He calls the things he likes “real shine” and “chrome”. He’s excited for almost everything, from the skittish lizards running on the sand to the violent colours of the desert sunsets, and there is something innocent and childlike in his enthusiasm, that she wouldn’t expect from a War Boy.

Words come more easily with time for both of them, and it’s not only about things like whether they need to fill up on gas or which is the nearest motel they can stay in for the night. Sometimes they laugh together, sometimes they stay silent, but it is a different kind of silence now, it is one they share, one with meaning and comfort.

They never talk about _him_ , about the gang and what they left behind. It is there, an impending threat, a worry that clenches their hearts from time to time. But she feels, they both feel, that it would be a crying shame to taint this strange, sweet freedom that they have now –full of fear as it is- with the memories of their past. She never asks him how he ended up in Joe’s gang – she doesn’t need to know. His story is the sad story of all the War Boys, just lost creatures that worship the man who has given them a sense of family, power and purpose. She cannot blame them, cannot truly hate them, because she can see that they are not less used than she and her sisters were. 

Sometimes -no, most of the times- she feels like the wasteland is going to swallow her whole. Its vastness and emptiness make her feel naked and small, an insignificant spec to be added to the million specs of sand. It scares her, feeling so empty and helpless, but when they stop at gas stations and motels and come in touch with civilization again, she misses the odd safety of the desert, and finds herself gravitating towards Nux, wanting his protection and reassurance. But more and more often, she wonders if he does the same thing with her.

She doesn’t sleep better after a couple of weeks than what she did in the beginning. At first it was because she was too scared, because she expected Joe to ambush them every minute of the night, even though they were being careful, even though the boy slept with a gun under his pillow. She sleeps better during the day in the car, when she knows that the gun is in the glove compartment under her bare feet. But as the days pass and Joe’s threat fades away little by little, she finds it even harder to sleep than before. She misses her sisters. At Joe’s, they were always sleeping together, breaths and limbs and strands of red and blonde and black hair all tangled up together in a bundle of safety and love. But here she is alone in sleep; they always take a room with two single beds and her bed, narrow as it always is, feels empty and cold to her without Angharad or the Dag’s arms wrapping protectively around her, or hers wrapped around Cheedo or Toast.

She’s grown tired of motel rooms too. She used to feel safe in them at first, concealed from her enemies, but not anymore. Every night the sickly yellow lights and the ever-present, stained and tacky wallpapers make the rooms seem even more claustrophobic than before. She feels like she’s choking every time she steps inside a new room, the weight of the memories of captivity pressing hard on her lungs. Sometimes, when the motels are mostly empty and quiet and the highway deserted, Nux agrees to stay outside for a while. They stay perched on his car’s hood and look at the stars for hours. She knows some of the constellations and she shows them to Nux, who doesn’t know any. But it’s better when they make up their own, and it’s fun to try and see if they will recognize them again the next night, or if they will come up with new ones. She is the most happy when she is lying on her back on his Mustang and stretches her arms to reach the stars. Even the desert feels somehow less threatening during the night. Not less vast, but less eager to swallow Capable’s existence.

//

It is another sleepless night in another dingy motel room, and Capable feels as trapped and lonely as ever. Tonight they couldn’t stay outside to watch the stars because there are other people in the motel too. They’re trying to be careful about those things, aware of the fact that shaved heads and bright red hair are easy to remember. She knows they should have probably changed their car for something more inconspicuous, but she doesn’t dare to mention it to Nux. The ’67 Mustang is everything he has, the only thing he can call his own.

She looks at him now, sleeping soundly in the bed next to hers, his naked chest rising and falling rhythmically, the scars and ink stretching lightly on his skin. It’s the blueprint of a V8, he explained it to her the first time she saw him shirtless. He’s also told her that the ’67 Mustang is the first model to have a V8 engine, but she doesn’t know if he has the tattoo because of the car or the other way around. He’s a strange creature she thinks. The lights are off in their room, but the sickly glow of the outer lights of the motel seep through the threadbare curtains, and in this glow she can see him clearly, his paleness, the permanent dark circles under his eyes, the strange scars on his lips. He ought to scare her perhaps, but he doesn’t. He is tall, but his chest and shoulders are narrow, and he is more skinny than lean. And above all, this inexplicable innocence is always present in the features of his face – mild despite the scars- whether he’s asleep or awake. 

“Nux” she says in a soft, but clear voice as she’s standing next to his bed. She doesn’t know why she’s doing this now and not before, or why it is tonight that she can’t bear the loneliness and the absence of her sisters any more. 

“Nux” she says again, a bit louder this time, and he wakes up with a start, his hand immediately reaching for the gun under his pillow.

“Relax, relax, it’s nothing” she says hastily. She should have known he would be alarmed. “I just can’t sleep. Can I… can I sleep here with you?” she asks then, the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice, because it has just crossed her mind now that he might say no.

He looks at her groggily, still half asleep, and after a few moments he lifts the covers and rolls to the side to make space for her. They don’t say a word as she climbs on the small bed with him. She feels his warm chest against her back and his arm being wrapped around her waist, as if he knows exactly what she needs. She is surprised to find that his arms feel stronger than they look. She hears him draw a deep breath, and a moment later she feels the warm air he exhales tickle the roots of her hair, and with this she lets herself sink deeper in the bed and his embrace, finally close to the peace of mind she’s seeking. Sleep comes swiftly and easily, the pace of his breaths dictating her own. When she wakes up in the morning, still locked in his arms, for the first time since they started running she doesn’t want to get out of bed.

//

It happens again and again, though they never talk about it. It comes naturally to her after the first time, and Nux doesn’t seem to mind, always welcoming her wordlessly in his arms. He never comes to her bed; it is always her who crawls in his, and she is glad that he lets her have a choice, some sort of control.

Her peace of mind lasts for a few days, before she becomes restless again. She is still calm in the night, when his warmth and steady breathing lulls her to sleep, but during the day her mind is scattered, preoccupied with something shapeless and dark. Her skin is crawling with it, and it takes her a few more days to understand what it is: desire.

She is scared of wanting Nux, of wanting anyone, but she is also scared of never having him, and this paradox threatens to drive her mad the deeper they go into the desert. The space between the car seats is at the same time too much and too little. Whenever he takes his shirt off her stomach clenches and her heart leaps. She is fixated with his hands, obsessively trying to find excuses to touch them and ways to avoid them. When Nux glances at her bare feet resting on the glove compartment of the car, she feels a heat spread through her, but her heart is fluttering with worry all the same. And the nights, they’re the worst torture of all. She goes to him, always goes to him because there’s nothing worse than her empty bed, but she doesn’t sleep any more. She spends the night counting his heartbeats, enjoying and hating the feeling of his chest pressed against her back, and wondering what would happen if she just turned around and let her lips brush against the scars on his lips. 

//

It becomes too much one night, about – oh, she doesn’t know, she’s lost track of time in this wasteland, where even the threat of Joe and the War Boys has taken this imaginary quality to it even though they still sleep with a gun under their pillow. But yes, it becomes too much one night as she lays tangled in Nux’s limbs with her eyes wide open, looking but not seeing the generic landscape painting on the wall. Her chest is heavy with that awful weight again, and for the first time since she crawled into Nux’s bed she feels that perhaps she shouldn’t be there.

She carefully disentangles herself from Nux and quietly leaves the room. The desert is cold at night, but she enjoys the chill raising goosebumps on her skin. She walks towards the car, having half a mind to climb on the hood and look at the stars. They seem cold and distant tonight, further from her grasp than ever.

“Capable”

She turns to look at him. He’s only in his cargo pants, and he looks even paler, almost ghostly in the sickly light of the motel sign.

“I woke up and you weren’t there; gave me a scare” he says gently, but she can see the concern in his eyes, and it starts a tempest in the already restless sea of her heart.

“I couldn’t sleep” she says apologetically.

“You better come inside, though, there are other people here too” he says seriously, and he’s right, she can hear them being a little loud in their rooms, but she can’t go back inside, because she can’t breathe in there.

“I can’t” she says simply, and she takes a step back without thinking, because Nux is suddenly a lot closer than he was before. She feels the cold metal of the car biting the naked flesh of her exposed thighs, a strange jolt going straight to her heart. Nux takes a step forward for the step back that she takes, and it seems like an unconscious thing, as if an invisible string is connecting them, dragging one towards the other. She places a palm on his chest, automatically trying to stop his advancement, but the metal is still sending chills on her skin, and her arm snakes up from his chest to the back of his neck as if on its own accord and pulls him closer to her instead of pushing him back.

Their lips meet with a crash, teeth and tongues fighting each other – for what she doesn’t know. He’s enthusiastic, his body pushing her flat against the hood of his car, one of his knees already between her thighs as he growls his desire in her mouth, and it’s all too much too soon, her lungs feeling like they’re going to burst and it’s not just because of the kiss. She pushes him back, trying to catch her breath, and he moves away from her as if he’s been electrocuted. For a moment his look is unsettling, a dark lust behind the clear blue, as if he can’t contain himself, as if his desire will shred her to bits. But the moment passes, and there is only worry and concern in his eyes.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles, and she is surprised by the hint of shame and embarrassment in his voice.

“It’s alright, I’m just… It’s just-” she doesn’t know how to continue for a moment, how to tell him about all the thoughts and fears cramming in her head, all the clashing emotions. She tries again.

“I want you. I want to do things with you, but I’m also scared – of myself and of you. I need to find a way to… to feel _safe_ ” she says quietly, searching his face for a reaction, hoping that he will understand.

He stands still for just a second, and then, to her surprise he unbuckles his belt and slides it quickly out of his pants, presenting it to her.

“You can tie me up if you want. If it makes you feel safe” he says, the sincerity and trust in his eyes making her weak in the knees.

For a moment she is tempted, to be in control, safe and free to do what she wants without hindrance, but she dismisses the thought almost immediately. If she does it, she won’t be much better than Joe, even if Nux is willing. Somehow, despite her fears and past experiences, she feels that both she and Nux must be standing on equal ground, she needs to give him the chance to restrain himself with his own will, respect her with his own will. She tries to explain this to him and he nods in understanding. A few moments pass, and then she attempts another kiss. It is gentler and slower than the first, and though his mouth responds to hers, he otherwise keeps quite still, letting her make the steps when she’s ready. She draws her body closer to his, suddenly hungry for his heat, and he wraps his arms around her after she wraps hers around his neck. And it is alright this way, because it’s not much unlike the way they sleep.

She leads him back to the room as if in a dream, and she doesn’t care about going back inside anymore, because now the room will be a place where she fights her fears instead of being consumed by them. She feels a little shy as she starts taking her clothes off slowly, but she takes a look at Nux, now sitting on the edge of his bed, and she feels liquid heat pooling between her legs. He looks at her as if he’s hypnotized, and when she’s finally naked, a look of absolute reverence is present in his features.

She stands in front of him, feeling strangely as if she’s the one in power even though she’s naked and he’s not. Excitement and anticipation flutter in her heart as she takes his hands in hers and places them on her breasts, his look of awe and admiration making her bold. They fit perfectly in his warm, calloused hands, and she feels little tendrils of pleasure when he squeezes tentatively and brushes his thumbs over her nipples.

“ _Oh, Capable…_ ”

Something snaps inside of her at the sound of his voice – the tension that had been coiling inside of her all these days- and she’s not hesitant anymore. He sounds needy, vulnerable, and she knows that she needs him more than she fears him. She leans in for another kiss, deep and hungry this time, and she lets Nux pull her down with him on the bed. Something in his way tells her that he has little experience in all this, and a part of her is glad. Her hands go to his pants without much thought – she only wants to feel his skin against her own and the worn fabric is standing in the way of that.

There is something sacred about what they do, she thinks with a clarity of mind she wouldn’t expect in the midst of passion, as they roll naked on the narrow bed and Nux traces her skin with his scarred lips. There is something innocent in the way they explore each other, in their kisses and touches, in the way their bodies respond to each other as if they communicate on a fundamental level of being. And there is something cathartic too, she thinks and she almost wants to cry with happiness, when Nux is inside of her, because every fiber in his body sings an ode to her, worships her and devotes itself to her pleasure. It’s like a fire, scalding and merciless, consuming her and burning the filth of her past, finally reducing it to ashes. She holds on to him tightly, trying to get closer to him even when their bodies have almost become one, trying to give him even a little of the joy he is giving her, because he deserves it, he deserves _her_. And like this, the heat and the fire erupt, and she’s finally clean, pure. And she knows now that it doesn’t matter if they stay out at night ever again – Nux will help her reach the stars from their narrow bed.

She kisses him softly as he rolls next to her, sweating and panting. It’s all over now, but he still whispers her name like a chant, and she wonders why she hadn’t seen it before – that he loves her _so much_. He falls asleep with her name on his lips, and she falls asleep with his name etched on her heart.

//

They press on, in the heat and the dust. The desert stretches ahead of them, endless and imposing, but Capable is not afraid of it anymore. She misses her sisters, the threat of Joe still lingers in her thoughts and she doesn’t know what the future holds. But she is free and whole, and she has Nux. And for now, it is all that she needs.


End file.
